


Double-Banded

by Otakiot



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Post-Canon, Self-Destruction, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-20 22:38:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16564451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otakiot/pseuds/Otakiot
Summary: *This story is based after the events of the series finale 'Everybody Dies' and contains MAJOR SPOILERS for the entire series.*After a poorly orchestrated attempt on his life, Gregory House finds himself back inside Princeton Plainsboro. As his friends and former team struggle to unearth the truth behind his admission, House's own addled mind and path towards self destruction makes this one of their most difficult cases so far. And with the threat of discovery by the police at any time looming just overhead, it very well could be their last.





	1. When You Say Goodbye, I Say Hello

He threw back his head and felt the handful of pills scrap down his throat. ‘This is it. Finally.’ 

Gregory House had planned out his death many times and in many ways. Never once did he imagine it would be for the reasons he had now nor in the place he was.

The black-clad man wavered again, his vision began to fade as it took everything in him to keep the whiskey-painkiller cocktail from flying out the way it came in. 

It was two a.m. and he was alone.

A brisk breeze sent him reeling and the last of his balance left him as he collapsed onto the sodden grass with a gasp. “Damn it. Even dying hurts..”

“Of course it does, you idiot! What are you thinking?!” A familiarly outraged voice demanded. “Get up!” It wasn’t the cold air that sent a shiver through him as he tried his best to ignore his companion. “You’re ignoring me? Really?! What are you five?!”

“Shut up.”

“Oh gee thanks. Tell the man trying to save your life to shut up. That makes sense!” The exasperated voice carried on. Every word that echoed from his mouth sent House’s mind askew and left him urging the effects to pull him under sooner. He squeezed his eyes shut, counting down to the inevitable. It had to be soon. It had to be.

The outsider’s voice quieted and he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Is this really what you want? To die with no one around to notice? House. Look at me.” The grip on his shoulder tightened and despite everything in him telling him not to, he obeyed. Mere inches away were two large, solemn brown-eyes and the face of his only friend. His best friend.

“Wilson-” He gasped as white spots filled his gaze. James’ face creased slightly as a sad smile took over. 

“It’s not too late. You can call someone, yell for help.. Something.” He urged. “I’m a hallucination, so I can’t help you this time. You need to help yourself. So get up.”

“N-no.”

“Why?”

“Because I couldn’t help you. I- I couldn’t-” His breathes caught in his throat and he felt a heavy feeling overtake his body and mind. What was this new sensation he had only felt a few times before? It was like everything was being sapped from him, like his whole body was being stolen away… Oh that’s right, it’s **nothingness**. And as terrible as nothingness may sound, it sounded a whole lot better to him now than what awaited when the sun rose. And hey, maybe Wilson was right and there was something waiting for him after, he just hadn’t stayed dead long enough to see it before now. He will have to find out.

Gregory House lays alone on this early Tuesday morning. And for the first time in a long time, he smiles.


	2. How Could It Come to This?

“House. House open your eyes, I know you’re awake.” A cautious voice ordered. “House.”

“House isn’t available right now. Leave your message after the-”

“How are you alive? You died. We went to your-

“-beep. BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.” House would never admit it, but he was nervous. Nervous because he knew this bed, knew this smell and knew that voice. He was in Sacred Heart and that most likely means that when he is done being poked and prodded by Chase’s team, he will likely be shipped off to the nearest cell with a ribbon on his head. His parole officer would be sure of that. And prison would get in the way of his goal and he isn’t letting anything stop him now.

“HOW ARE YOU ALIVE, HOUSE?!”

“Yelling doesn't suit you Chase.” He opened his eyes and smirked up at his protege. “And it’s obvious. Don’t be stupid.”

“He faked his death to avoid prison.”

“Bingo. I see you got my message.” 

“You knew?!” Chase stared at Foreman incredulously. “This whole time?”

The Dean shrugged, “I had an inkling.”

“So what now, oh Grand Executioner? Are you throwing me to the pigs?”

“It’s “throwing you to the wolves” and no, not yet. First you need to clear up a few things.”

“And if I don’t meet your demands?” The older ex-doctor asked with a rebellious look in his eye.

“Then I really will throw you back in prison.”

House sighed, “Just like the good ol’ days? You really are starting to sound like Cuddy. The only difference is that she had a much nicer ass.”

“Yes, now focus.”

House pulled his aching limbs up towards him , placed his elbows on his knees and leaned his face into his palms like an eager school girl. “I _am_ focused, Jessica. Now tell me, who are you taking to the dance?” Foreman shot him a warning glance before continuing on.

“For someone so keen on living that he faked his own death, why did you try to kill yourself?”

House’s fingers grazed a smooth metal surface. “There was nothing on tv. You know how it is.”

“Answer the question.” Chase ordered his old superior.

“Intimidating voice.. I like it. Probably works wonders on your patients. Unfortunately, I'm not one of them.” House complimented. “Now, can I get lunch or would you prefer I starve to death?”

Foreman pinched the bridge of his nose. “We aren’t going to get anywhere with him right now. Just do it.” 

“Thank you, Most Wise One.”

“ _You_ are to do whatever the hell Doctor Chase wants you to without question or I will call your officer.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know the drill. Go back to your filing.” With only a slight huff, he left leaving the remaining two men alone. House turned his gaze expectantly at the other doctor. “So are you just going to stand there or…?” 

Chase glared at him and muttered a few curses before storming out. House couldn’t help but feel pride in the duo’s growth. It was really too bad they are still too naive and hopeful to remember to leave a nurse on watch or strap him down. They’ll learn.

House waited a minute before jumping to his feet, which was no issue for once with more morphine and adrenalin coursing through him than blood at the moment. He grabbed some gauze and shambled out as quickly and relatively normally as he could manage.

“Perfect.” He smirked arrogantly at the doors just ahead. He was just passing the nurse’s station when he spotted Foreman. “Ah crap.” 

“HEY!” He ignored the pain and broke out into a full out sprint for the exit. “Dr.Park! Grab him!”

“WHAT?”

“NOW!”

He was just a breath away from freedom when a small but surprisingly strong body slammed into him and tackled him onto the floor. His head slammed against the linoleum and ringing filled his ears. “Couldn’t you have been a little more careful?” He grumbled as he tried to stay conscious.

“Wait.. House? Is that-”

"You can catch up later. For now, keep Adams and the nurse’s away. We have to get him back in his room before anyone sees him. Watch out.” Foreman wrapped one of his arms around House’s torso and threw one of his over his own shoulders. “You’re too heavy for this. Couldn’t you have listened just this once? I mea-” He stopped mid-sentence as a peculiar sight drew his attention to the half-conscious doctor's hand. 'Is that.. A _wedding_ ring?' House wasn't the marriage-type. He was only married the one time and it was to prove how stupid the whole ordeal was while helping his wife remain in America past her Visa. 'Maybe he kept his ring out of sentiment? No that doesn't sound like him. Plus there are two of them.. '

"Hey, Fore-.. Forehead..? I am-... I have a concussion thanks to the angry... Angry bowl-cut.. Thanks _so_ much.." His weak voice was heavy with sarcasm. " Hey, look at that. Blood. " Was the last thing House mumbled before he went limp on him. Foreman grunted with exertion and rearranged his fellow in his arms before he managed to drag them both down.

"Chase! Get over here! The patient needs stitches."

 

000

 

House awoke with a start. Something didn't feel right, he checked himself but couldn't find anything wrong. He felt and looked fine so why was he in a hospital bed? He couldn't remember. He scooted off the uncomfortable mattress and grabbed his cane. If he didn't know someone else should.

 

He wandered out into the eerily empty hallway. The light around him fluctuated with each step. Bright, dim, bright, dim,...

 

Up ahead, the nurse's station stood idle and empty of all life besides a single doctor who was filling out chart after chart. "Who does paperwork on their day off?" 

 

"Responsible adults. " He added another manilla folder to the growing stack. The darkness of the surrounding area seemed to shy away from the doctor. House peered about but couldn't find the source of the soft light that surrounded the one half of the nurse's station.

 

"Teacher's pet." Wilson rolled his eyes and a small smile settled in his lips as he noticed House sticking his tongue out at him.

 

House tried to walk closer to the other man but suddenly found that he couldn't move. "'the hell?" It was as if his lower joints were filled with cement. He looked up at Wilson who returned his worried look.

 

"What's wrong? Is your leg hurting?" House didn't answer him though because his focus was now on a figure just behind his friend. A figure that made his whole body go rigid. "What is it now? I swear to god if Chase is going to spray me with silly string again I will- Oh. Uh. Hello." Jack Moriarty stood directly behind him, his gun leveled with James' browline. " How can we.. Help you? "

 

"Its simple really, Doctor. I have just come to settle the score with your friend over there." He motioned at House with his gun. " It's nothing personal for you really. You seem like a good man. "

 

Wilson's eyebrows furrowed. "Thanks?" His nervous eyes begged House to do something. 

 

"Jack, put the gun down. We are already even remember? You shot me twice." Realization dawned on the oncologist's face and his fear heightened. He tried to move away from Moriarty slowly but the click of the gun's safety released made him freeze up again and raise his file-bearing hands into the air.

 

"Don't. I know you aren't all that bright so I will clear things up for you. Shooting innocent people is bad. So unless you want to be a bad guy like you think I am, then you will relax and out down the gun." 

 

"You think I really care if I am a good person? You're hilarious." There was a deafening blast, a flash of light and the sound of a body hitting the floor. "And you thought your team was gullible."

 

House looked down at the scattered papers on the floor in shock. One lay strewn over his feet. A single droplet of blood smeared across Wilson's signature. "..You.. You son of-

 

"House."

 

"You fucking piece-

 

"House! " The red-spattered nurse's station fell away as he felt someone shaking him. "House, you're having a nightmare. Wake up."

 

"Wh-? Well, obviously." He twisted into his side and stuffed his face in his pillow to block out the irritating shine of fluorescent bulbs. " Why did you wake me up so early? And why the hell is it so bright in here? Turn off the lights my head's killing me. "

 

"What were you dreaming about? You seemed pretty worked up." 

 

"Of course I was. My mind was being an ass again. It was like all the other times and it's really starting to irritate me."

 

"Like the other times?" House waves a hand at him dismissively.

 

"I.. Saw you die. Again. This time it was Moriarty. " His voice went cold and lifeless.

 

"The guy who shot you?"

 

"Yeah." The bed creaked as the other doctor sat beside him.

 

"Are you.. Okay?" There was a shifting of cloth and a hand touched his shoulder. 

 

"I don't know. Something just feels wrong.." He sat up into a sitting position and ran a hand over his gray hair. "I just can't figure out what." He squeezed his eyes shut as another wave of pain overtook his head. He hissed out a curse.

 

"I will get something to help with the pain. Be right back." A hand grabbed his wrist.

 

"Wait, Wilson. Stay." 

 

"Wilson? House, Wilson isn't here. I'm Chase, Robert Chase." He finally looked at the man in his grip and he immediately dropped his wrist. "Do you still see Wilson?"

 

"No, you idiot. I wasn't hallucinating, I am tired and have a concussion because you sent Park after me. That's it."

 

"So where is Wilson then? Why isn't he here?" A flood of unwanted memories filled his mind but he kept face before his old employee.

 

"How should I know? The two of us haven't talked since I told him I wasn't dead and he decided to run off." 

 

Chase shot him a look from the doorway. "Liar." He muttered before leaving the room. 

 

A sheepish Dr. Park meandered in immediately after her supervisor and went to work strapping him down. She apologized as she worked, promising to make up for the 15 stitches in his forehead. "Do you want some cake? The cafe down the road makes amazing cheesecake. It I could get you the good cable. What do you want?" 

 

"Park, listen to me carefully." She nodded eagerly and leaned forwards in the hospital chair. "I don't care about the stitches. At all. Just do your job and hand me the remote." The plastic block bounced painfully off his shoulders but he managed to bump it down into his palm. 

 

He turned on the tv, closed his eyes, and adjusted his limbs within their restraints. 'Why do I feel like they are going to try to do everything they can to screw me over? Why can't things just go smoothly the first time?' House turned the rings on his finger thoughtlessly. 'They learned something atleast, these cuffs won't be easy to slip.' The t.v. mumbled to itself high above and he allowed himself to get lost in the frivolous dramas of Prescription Passion.

 


End file.
